


You Don't Love Him If You're Thinking of Me

by evepolastrie



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Choking, Degradation, F/F, Fantasizing, Light BDSM, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24917068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evepolastrie/pseuds/evepolastrie
Summary: In which Eve Polastri fantasizes about Daddy!Villanelle.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	You Don't Love Him If You're Thinking of Me

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during S2. I haven't fully placed where this scene would take place (obviously after the Amserdam kill?), but I know it's happened on multiple different occasions because of obvious reasons.

Eve sprawled her work across the floor -- files fanned around her, glass of wine resting comfortably in her hand as she scanned for information. Thorough research always left her in a weird state between satisfied and dissatisfied. Thrilled when she found a new lead, but discontent when she couldn't crack it immediately. Working for MI6 was probably the most stimulating yet demanding thing she'd ever done, but at the end of the day, she wouldn't dare walk away.

But then... Well... _Niko._

Niko was rightfully the love of Eve Polastri's life. Sure, they had their ups and downs, and maybe she _was_ far too invested into her own career, and maybe she _did_ have some sort of fixation on a certain blonde assassin roaming the earth, but that didn't make Niko any less important to Eve... Right?

What the problem (at least, a problem for Niko, because Eve didn't recognize it as a problem) really was was that she couldn't shut Villanelle completely out of her brain. Every single time she tried, she was gone for mere seconds -- fleeting moments -- before she saw her face once again. Eve was fascinated by her, transfixed by her; entertained, mesmerized, and she'd never dare admit it out loud to another soul ever (because she didn't have the courage to admit it to herself just yet), but she was _obsessed_ with her.

Eve constantly found herself wondering: _What is she doing right now? Who is she doing it with? What is she thinking? Feeling? What kind of shampoo did she use? Did she always carry that spellbinding scent on the nape of her neck, or did she only wear that perfume for Eve?_

And then, an even more thrilling proposition.

_Did Villanelle think about Eve as much as Eve thought about her?_

Speak of the devil.

Eve's cellphone lit up with a text message from Kenny, her MI6 IT contact. Swiping her thumb across the screen, she unlocked her phone to read the following message: _Check your email. New crime scene photos in Amsterdam._ The only words that jumped off the screen for Eve were _crime_ and _scene_ and _photos_. She felt it in the pit of her stomach, the feeling you get right before the big drop on a roller-coaster. She reached for her laptop, snatching it out of its carrying bag and snapping it open, fingers flying across the keyboard to fill in her credentials, as if the email wouldn't still be there in the next couple minutes. She needed to see these photos, and she needed to see them _now_.

Clicking on the most recent email, she opened the attachments (which took impossibly _forever_ to load), and in a sudden sense of shock mixed with piqued interest, both neurons and endorphins firing left and right in her brain, she saw the work of what could be none other than Villanelle in a red-light district window. There was only one thing that came to Eve's mind upon seeing this murder -- _The Bodies of the Brothers Jan and Cornelis de Witt, Hanging from the Strappado_ , the famous painting accredited to Jan de Baen. The longer she stared, the harder her heart pounded in her chest.

Blush rose to her cheeks when she realized that the longer she stared, the more heat pooled between her legs, hot and wet. _That was alarming._

Eve stilled. _Was it alarming, or was it alluring?_

Maybe it was both.

Eve looked at the time -- 2:36pm. On a regular day, Niko would be home in about twenty minutes, but he'd reminded her several times that he'd be home late due to parent-teacher conferences. In a way, she was sort of glad he would be gone so she could fully indulge in her twisted, kinky fantasies without the feeling of being judged or shamed for it, even if she knew how incredibly _wrong_ something had to be for her to be squeezing her thighs together to release pressure caused from morbid photos of dead bodies.

The thing for her was that it wasn't about the blood and the gore and the morbidity of it all that turned her on. That wasn't what made her impossibly wet, dripping into her panties. It was the idea that Villanelle was strong enough to be capable of something like this. It was the idea that Villanelle, with her own two hands, could create such chaos. _God, put those hands on me,_ she thought.

She entertained the idea. What if Villanelle _was_ here, with her, right now, as she gazed at these photos? What if they both acted on their mutual desires? What if, dare she even think it... _What if she let Villanelle simply devour her?_

How would that look, exactly? Eve was fully fantasizing now, imagining vivid depictions of Villanelle sitting directly beside her. She imagined that smug, knowing look on her face, gazing at a hot and bothered Eve, waiting for Eve to say something. Waiting for Eve to be brave enough to voice her desires. After a while, when the silence was deafening, Villanelle would speak up. _You know,_ she would say, her thick Russian accent flooding Eve's senses. Her voice was like music to her ears. _You can tell me what you are thinking. I am very good listener._

In her fantasy, Eve's illustration of herself is quite accurate. She knows she wouldn't be able to look Villanelle in the eye and admit what was happening in between her legs. She knows that she wouldn't be able to speak up. She imagines Villanelle would pick up on this, lift her hand and brush deep brunette locks away from her face. Eve would be frozen in her place, grappling with the fact that Villanelle has just barely touched her, and dealing with the fact that it drove her absolutely insane. It would piss her off that it wasn't even true contact, and it still just drove her wild.

Villanelle would lean in closer, Eve still frozen, and she would place her lips so unnervingly close to the shell of Eve's ear, hover there for a moment and let her breath simply create a mess in Eve. She'd chuckle as Eve's eyes would close, brunette drawing in a deep breath, hanging on to the way Villanelle's little laugh had sounded so deep in her throat.

_What is it, Eve? _Villanelle whispers against her ear, nodding towards the crime scene photos.__

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_Does it excite you, hm?_

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A pause. A low sigh. _I know._

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Finally, Villanelle touches her, but it's agonizingly slow. Her hand rests on Eve's abdomen, inching lower and lower until unabashedly her hand slips between Eve's legs, feeling the sweet heat, recognizing just how drenched her panties were. Another low, prideful chuckle. Villanelle most definitely would feel pride the moment she knew what she did to Eve.

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_I make you horny._

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The imaginary Eve nods once, like she's accepting this reality for herself, and then more eagerly, as if desperately confessing herself to Villanelle, as if Villanelle will finally take her the way she's been dying for her to for so long.

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Aside from the fantasy Eve is living out in her head, Eve checks the time once again -- 2:42pm. She considers herself, the work spread out in front of her, and the possibility that Niko may end parent-teacher conferences early and be home closer to his regular time, perhaps by 3:30. _Is that enough time?_

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Eve's decision is out of her hands, really, because she's already pulled herself up to her feet and scurried up the stairs to grab her cordless Hitatchi Wand -- a toy that Niko had no idea existed at the very bottom of Eve's underwear drawer.

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_I'm waiting, Eve._

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__The Russian accent beckoned in her imagination._ _

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Her deepest, darkest desire is for Villanelle to be as rough with her as she possibly could. Bring her to the edge of death, dangle her off the cliff, then yank her back as soon as they were finished.

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Eve returns to the living room, back where she had left her fantasy momentarily, sitting on the floor next to the crime scene photos. Eve closes her eyes, draws in a low breath, and returns to that place in her mind -- the fictional conversation she's having with Villanelle. How embarrassing it would be for Villanelle to find out she was doing this right now... Pretending to be speaking with her just to get off to a couple photos of a murder. Yikes.

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_I know you are timid, Eve, but you will need to speak to me if you want anything to happen._

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Eve nods again, biting her lip, trying to find the courage in her somewhere. It had to be there. She just needed to search for it.

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Whens he finally did, her mouth twitches with hesitation, but she finds her voice. It's quiet. _I -- I want you to --_ she's cut off by Villanelle. _I can't hear you. _Breath hitches in Eve's throat. Her pussy is practically throbbing by now -- if she didn't say something soon, she would regret it for the rest of her life.__

Eve speaks up.

_I want you to touch me. Fuck me. Degrade me. Put your hands on me. Be as rough as you can be. Make me never be able to look Niko in the eye properly because what we're about to do is so utterly filthy._

Villanelle is impressed with this answer. She hadn't expected something so bold from Eve, but Eve was constantly surprising her. Villanelle's smirk is still evident on her face, and she finally sets things into motion by grabbing Eve's face, crashing her lips against hers for their very first kiss, rough and heated. It's a mess, it's sloppy, but beautiful, just like them. Eve lets a moan escape her. Villanelle is pleased with this sound because it spurs her on.

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Villanelle's teeth nibble Eve's lower lip, sucking it into her mouth before her tongue slides between her parted lips to greet Eve's tongue. Eve is shocked by this, but welcomes the new experience. Niko doesn't use tongue. Open-mouthed kisses continue until the blonde had slipped her fingers back between Eve's legs, her mouth sucking on the pulse-point of Eve's neck. She bites down on the skin, sucks hard, leaving a dark purple ring. Eve loves the mark because it would let everyone in the world know that she belonged to Villanelle.

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Eve gasps when Villanelle slips her hands beneath the boxer shorts she was wearing. They were Niko's, and they were loose-fitting. She was also wearing one of his t-shirts -- baggy as all hell. Villanelle was in a silk komono, hair in a messy bun. It's how Eve conjured her up in her mind. She thought she looked sexy in lounge wear, sue her. The next time she imagined her, though, she'd probably put her in some type of suit. But, for now, in this fantasy, silky komono definitely wins.

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Fingers pull Eve's panties roughly to the side, almost ripping them. The brunette's heart is pounding. In real time, in the real world, Eve's hand is between her own legs, and she is imagining these movements to be the work of Villanelle, despite the fact that she isn't there. Let a woman fantasize.

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A long, thin digit caresses along Eve's soaking wet slit. Another chuckle of pride from Villanelle. _All of this from a couple crime scene photos? Eve..._ Eve shivers at the feeling of being touched. It felt good, but she wanted more. Villanelle could sense that, but Eve had asked her to be mean. Rough. Degrading. _Filthy._ So, that is what she is going to be.

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_Please, _Eve whimpers. Darkness swells in Villanelle's eyes.__

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__Villanelle places just a bit of pressure against Eve's entrance, as if she's going to slide her finger inside -- she dangles the bait in front of Eve, who so naively bites at it. Villanelle retracts immediately, going as far as to pull her hand out of Eve's pants. Eve whines in protest. Villanelle's face is like stone -- completely unreadable. She almost looks angry. _Oh, God, yes,_ Eve thinks._ _

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Suddenly, Villanelle grabs Eve's wrist, tight, and yanks her towards her, bending her over her lap roughly. The sudden change in positions has Eve's head spinning, and she quickly realizes what Villanelle is about to do, and her pussy throbs with anticipation.

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_You think you deserve to be fucked well, Eve? Is that what you think?_ Villanelle tears her boxer shorts and panties off of her body to reveal her bare ass. _You think that looking at crime scene photos and being drenched at the sight of them warrants a reward?_ She's massaging her ass now, rubbing slow circles, a gentle reminder that Villanelle is only doing this because they're both sexually aroused by it -- a gentle reminder that Villanelle wouldn't hurt her unless Eve outright asked for it.

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Eve is silent, and that is the wrong choice.

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_Answer me!_

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______Villanelle's voice rose just below a shout._ _ _ _ _ _

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_No! No, I don't think so. I don't deserve a reward._

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_And why not?_

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Eve gulps. _Because I've been n-naughty._ she stammers. In reality, she hadn't been -- being turned on by the photos didn't warrant a reward _or_ punishment. But Eve had asked for punishment, and that was what Villanelle was gifting to her.

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The next few moments are agonizing, because Villanelle isn't touching her anymore, and Eve is practically chanting _please, please, please_ in the smallest of whispers. Finally, Vinallelle sends her hand through the air, and it collides with the right cheek of Eve's ass. The first blow, Eve soon realized, was always the most surprising. The moment her hand collides with her ass, Villanelle grabs a handful, and eve presses back into her hand, whimpering loudly. And then Villanelle relinquishes all modesty, and releases the monster Eve had asked for.

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Villanelle strikes her relentlessly, on each cheek, for as long as she pleases. Over and over again the sounds of slapping and Eve's cries of pain and pleasure fill the living room. Eve's surprised that she's panting. This fantasy was going to give her the most amazing orgasm.

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When Villanelle was finished, Eve's ass was so red that it reminded the blonde of the lobster she'd eaten on a job not too long ago. Beautiful color, red.

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Eve's panting finally subsided for now as she was still bent over Villanelle's lap, and Villanelle handled her body roughly -- tight grips, mainly -- and sat Eve up so that she was sitting on her lap now, straddling her waist. Poor baby, it probably hurt to sit on her ass.

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Villanelle's eyes bored into Eve's face. Eve had enjoyed the spanking so much that there were tears on her cheeks. Villanelle wouldn't truly be Daddy if she hadn't done what she did next.

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Lifting her hands, the blonde cups Eve's cheeks and wipes the tears with her thumbs, pulls her in for a very soft kiss. A punishment wouldn't be half as effective if Eve wasn't reassured of Villanelle's love for her.

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Eve returns the kiss easily, and she falls forward once they break and rests her head on Villanelle's shoulder. Villanelle wraps her arms around Eve, gently rocking her. A form of aftercare in the middle of their session. it was healthy for the two of them.

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After a brief few moments, Villanelle's voice cut through the air. _I keep going now._ She presses soothing kiss into Eve's hair. Eve nods, knowing there would be more to come.

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_Eve sits up to offer her body back to Villanelle -- it's as if she's saying "here I am, take me, I'm yours."_

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Villanelle returns to her roughness -- a bit tamer than the monster she unleashed on Eve's ass, but not by much. Kissing, biting, sucking on Eve's throat. She finally realized that her breasts hadn't gotten any attention whatsoever, and that must be changed.

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The blonde lowers her head, kissing along her sternum, still over her shirt, and her mouth finds a nipple. She takes it into her mouth, through the fabric. Villanelle uses her saliva to wet the shirt -- it's think material, and she sucks slow and intentionally while her other hand is slipped up under her shirt, toying with her opposite breast. She squeezes with her hand, her thumb and forefinger find the nipple and play with it, twisting here and there to elicit little yelps from Eve, all the while she continues sucking the other, flicking tongue over it here and there. After a while, she switches sides, does the same to the opposite breast, sucking and sucking and listening to those beautiful moans from Eve. Eventually she pulls away, and she looks up at Eve expectantly. Eve reads her mind, peels off the shirt to reveal herself completely naked on top of Villanelle. This absolutely _delights_ the blonde.

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Villanelle's pupils are dark again, and she shoves Eve off of her lap, leaving her to hit the floor harshly. Eve moans.

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_Hands and knees, pet._ says a heavily accented voice.

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Eve complies, adjusting herself on her hands and knees.

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_Turn._

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Eve turns so that she's facing her computer screen, the crime scene photos that Villanelle was responsible for staring her in the face. Eve's wetness drips down her leg. Villanelle had barely touched her pussy... She needed attention so badly. She wondered if she was going to get it.

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Villanelle regards her, tilts her head, then brings herself to her knees, lowing her face so she was inches away from Eve's pussy. The blonde grabs Eve's beet-red ass and forces her back, and her tongue finally collides with her core -- but she's tormentingly slow. In fact, she still hasn't brushed over her clit. Eve's panting again, wanting so much more than what Villanelle is giving her. She feels she should be punished for even thinking that, but she can't handle more spanking at the moment, and she's already in the middle of a punishment already. She keeps her mouth shut save for soft moans as Villanelle's tongue glides over her slit, avoiding her clit at all costs.

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Eve can't take it anymore. _Please!_ she blurts out, pushing her ass back into Villanelle's mouth. Villanelle pulls away completely. Eve whines. She's tearing up from frustration now. Why was this so bad yet so good?

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Villanelle decides to turn this into a mind game.

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_Look at the pictures, Eve._

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Eve does. Her thighs are starting to shake from pure want.

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Villanelle makes her stare at the photos for impossibly long, knowing that it is building that fire deep inside of her. Villanelle didn't want to settle for weak embers if she was going to fuck Eve; she wanted a roaring explosion.

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Eve is on her hands and knees, staring at the photos for ten full minutes. Silence from Villanelle. Nothing but the sound of quivering and whimpers and shaking thighs.

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Finally, an exhausted, defeated _Please..._ escapes Eve's lips. Villanelle's face is still cool as steel. She waits a few more moments before she grabs her ass and pulls her back in, wriggling her tongue in between her folds. The suddenness of it makes Eve gasp and then grunt. Villanelle reached an arm, found the Hitatchi Wand Eve had brought down from it's hiding spot. _Oh, thank God,_ Eve thinks. Villanelle stiffens her tongue, then slides it into Eve's entrance. A very low, deep, throaty moan escapes Eve. This was different than anything she had ever experienced before. She hears the soft hum of the vibrator being turned on, and Villanelle finally, _finally_ presses is against Eve's clit, and it's an explosion. The vibrator may have been on the lowest setting, but she would take anything she could get.

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Villanelle continued to bob her head, fucking Eve with her tongue, pressing the vibrator harder against Eve's clit. She finally pulls her mouth away, deciding to use her fingers instead, plunging two deeply inside. This makes Eve grunt and then moan loudly. Villanelle curls her fingers, reaching that spot inside of her that makes Eve cry out _Yes!_. Villanelle switches the vibrator up one notch higher, continues fucking Eve with her fingers, reaching deeper depths with each pump. Her palm is completely covered in Eve's juices. She pulls out, then places her hand over Eve's mouth, inviting her to taste herself. Eve does so with a guttural moan. She licks up every drop.

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Villanelle plunges three fingers back inside of Eve, and she groans out. She starts pumping her arm quick -- fast and hard, making Eve fall forward onto her forearms. She's still staring at the crime scene photos when she's shocked -- a new sensation. Villanelle's tongue rimming her, and suddenly the fire that was building goes from those weak embers to that explosion Villanelle was trying to coax out of her. Tongue in her ass, three fingers roughly fucking Eve's soaked pussy, and the vibrator on medium power over her clit. She was going to fall over the edge -- she knew she was.

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_Don't you care come, Eve Polastri._

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_____Eve is in shock at these words. She's not allowed to come? How could that be?_ _ _ _ _

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The problem was that he orgasm was rapidly approaching. Her moans became higher-pitched and more frequent. She was starting to tumble forward, and she ended up with her face on the hardwood flooring, cheek pressed against it while Villanelle was pounding her into the floor, tongue in her ass.

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_Oh God, oh God, oh God! ___

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__And just as she was starting to feel herself become washed over with pleasure, everything stops. No more fingers, no more tongue, no more vibrator. It's blank._ _

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Eve's made a dripping puddle beneath her pussy under the floor. It's strings of her juices, drip drip dripping from her cunt. Villanelle laps between her folds with her tongue, but she shoves Eve's face into the floor and forces her to clean up her mess.

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When Eve is finished, she dares to look up and sees that Villanelle has slipped open that silky komono on her body, revealing that she is wearing absolutely nothing beneath it. This is all taking place in Eve's imagination, and she's never seen Villanelle nude before, but she believes that she has the body of Aphrodite. She looks like a Greek goddess. Eve's eyes open wide. Villanelle's legs spread, and Eve takes her in.

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_Eat._

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Eve jumps at the chance, eager as all hell. She's never done this before, so she's nervous. But she decides to try what she likes on Villanelle, because maybe that might make the blonde grace her with moans. She's never heard Villanelle moan before -- she wanted to, desperately.

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Eve's head dips between her legs, and her tongue tests the waters, she glides it up from entrance to clit, and then she clasps her mouth around her clit, starting to suck. She's so fucking eager it's embarrassing, but she finally hears Villanelle let out a soft moan that she clearly was trying to conceal, but failed to do so. That spurs Eve on, and she continues, sucking away on Villanelle's beautiful clit, and then slips two fingers inside her. Again, another moan, and Eve is in heaven. She starts fucking her more roughly with her fingers, and finally she brings Villanelle to orgasm. Villanelle's hands are on the back of Eve's head, holding her there while her hips rolled up over and over again while she rode out the waves of her orgasm, twitching with aftershocks.

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Eve was conflicted. She felt both proud of herself for giving Villanelle an orgasm and jealous since she was denied her own. She sat up on her knees, still between Villanelle's legs, looking up at her with pleading eyes. She thought _maybe_ , since she had given Villanelle an orgasm, she would be granted the pleasure of having her own orgasm.

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That was not the case.

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_Poor baby._

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Eve scrunches up her face. She's on the verge of tears. _Please, Daddy. Please let me come. I need release._

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Eve chokes back a sob. This was her first ever BDSM session -- albeit, it wasn't real, it was just a fantasy, but Eve liked to try and be as realistic with her fantasy as she could. She probably _would_ cry out of frustration. She just wanted Villanelle to let her come. Was that so much to ask?

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She's taken aback at what happens next. Her cheek stings -- she hadn't even seen it coming. The back of Villanelle's hand collided with her cheek. She struck her face, _hard_ , and Eve reached up to cradle her face. Next she knew, Villanelle's hand was wrapped around her throat, pressing her thumb and fingers into the sides of her neck just enough to reduce her air supply. Climbing ontop of her, Villanelle allows her left leg to slide under Eve's right, her right leg draping across her left. She move in closer and closer until their hot, wet centers touch, and Eve shudders at the connection. Villanelle kept choking her, starting to roll her hips into Eve's, fucking her slow and controlled. Eve is panting again. She couldn't help it.

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Villanelle begins to rock harder, faster, their pussies gliding against each other, juices mixing. God it was so hot, Eve could come just from the idea that her pussy was touching Villanelle's. The blonde started moaning, louder than she had when Eve was eating her out, and it was ecstasy. Villanelle was approaching orgasm -- her second one, Eve was so jealous -- but she was smart enough to know when to stop. She slows her hips until they're going agonizingly slow. Eve whines in protest. Villanelle pulls away completely, pushing Eve so she was lying back, and suddenly she was in between her legs, sucking firmly on her clit. Eve sighed happily, moaning softly here and there until she felt the familiar feeling of pleasure approaching. 

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_Yes, yes, yes!_ she thinks. Finally, she'll get her orgasm. She's close, so close -- and it almost didn't even a surprise when Villanelle stops.

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But she doesn't stop for long. Villanelle grabs the Hitatchi Wand, places it on her clit, and turns it on the highest setting possible, grinding it into her clit. Eve gasps at the suddenness of the pleasure, and she's climbing that mountain -- she can see the top, she's just over the peak, she can see the valley below -- she's almost there. _Yes, God, Yes!_

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A thick Russian accent. _Come for me, Eve._

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Eve did exactly as she was told, letting herself fall over the edge and drown in her orgasm. The floor was removed from her, she was in a free-fall without anyone to catch her except Villanelle. Eve screamed her pleasures, and Villanelle removed the toy, slapping her pussy with her fingers. As soon as she did that, Eve squirted all over the place. There was so much fluid as she came, it was incredible -- she was soaking the floor, herself, the toy, everything. She couldn't stop, and when it finally did, she laid back against the floor and tried to still her breathing. Villanelle grabbed her by her hair and made her lick up her mess. Eve took every drop gratefully.

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In reality, Eve was so deeply invested in this fantasy of herself and Villanelle that she had the Hitatchi Wand pressed to her clit so hard that she couldn't even see straight, she felt like her whole body was vibrating. Eve was moaning like crazy, staring at the photo in front of her. All the blood, guts, morbidity -- all of the chaos and power and strength Villanelle held. Oh, it was too much. Eve could feel it, and before she knew what was happening, she was coming all over their couch, moaning with reckless abandon.

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Gone was the fantasy of Villanelle fucking her into oblivion. As she was recovering from her very _real_ orgasm, breathing heavily, she could still see the blonde's face. Eve finally stilled her breath and closed her eyes, completely content with the fact that she had come so gloriously to just the mere thought of Villanelle.

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_There was a soft click of the door closing behind her._

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Eve's eyes snapped open. Oh, God. It was 3:30pm.

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Niko steps carefully into the scene, examining his naked wife, a sheen of sweat covering her body, noting the toy and the crime scene photos. He looks at Eve, Eve looks at him, her cheeks deepened with blush.

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She'd been caught red-handed.

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**Author's Note:**

> [ insert Sigh by Unloved here ]


End file.
